


White Zinfandel

by AJRaffles



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Canon Compliant, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Catherine Fullbody, Love Triangles, M/M, Mutual Pining, Persona 5: The Royal, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Post-Canon, Post-Persona 5: The Royal, Slow Burn, This is a soap opera disguised as a fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27444853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJRaffles/pseuds/AJRaffles
Summary: When he was seventeen,  Ren Amamiya thought that perhaps the fondness he felt towards the girls he dated —his peers, teammates, friends— was what “love”, the one you see in stories, and poems, and dramas, was supposed to feel like. The uncertainty surrounding his own feelings is Ren's first regret.Now, almost five years later, when he thinks about what romantic love is or whether he’s ever felt it, he finds that he's still not sure.Tying into the theme of feelings he doesn’t think he’ll ever come to understand, is Ren’s second regret: Goro Akechi.On the night of December 16th, as he dwells upon it all, Ren finds himself caught in a series of recurring nightmares, where, should he falter, he risks losing his life.[Inspired by the Catherine: Full Body DLC with Joker]
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Persona 5 Protagonist & Phantom Thieves of Hearts, Persona 5 Protagonist & Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	1. Day 0

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Thanks for stopping by.  
> It's been a very long time since I've written fanfiction, but I feel very strongly over Akiren and Goro, and I've been wanting to write this for a while now. So, general announcements!  
> This story is based on the premise both Catherine: Fullbody and P5R occur in the same timeline/universe. You don't need any prior knowledge on Catherine, but it sure helps for context and background information. I'm trying to avoid spoilers for that game entirely and I'm just borrowing the general premise, but will update the tags if needed. Keeping that in mind, for the purpose of this story, Ren had dated several girls during his probation (namely Ann, Makoto, Haru, Hifumi, and Sumire) and was busted during Valentines.  
> Not quite a Catherine AU, but a continuation of the events of Royal based on it.  
> Is that too niche? I hope not, haha.  
> As of the start of the plot, it's been almost 5 years since the end of the events of the game. The Phantom Thieves are all 20-23.  
> The Mature rating is simply because that's what both games in the source material are rated. There will be some implied sexual content which will have a bearing on the plot, but I will include no explicit or graphic scenes of any sort.  
> There are some scenes with Ren/Sumire content but Akeshu is the endgame here!  
> They WILL!!!!! get a happy ending if it's the last thing I do.  
> I don't really have anyone to beta this for me and English isn't my first language, so I hope you can forgive any farts and mistakes I make here and there.  
> That said, I sincerely hope you enjoy!

If there is one thing Ren Amamiya can be certain of, it is the fact that the relationships he forged over the course of his probation in Tokyo are ties that can never be severed. 

They are, after all, the thing that saved him. 

Even now, almost five years after the disbandment of the Phantom Thieves, those bonds remain strong. As they continue to move forward, together, each one of them strives to create the future they want for themselves. The right to do so is the thing all of them fought so arduously to protect. 

_All of them._

Unfortunately, hardship had not disappeared alongside the metaverse. If anything, choosing to live in this world also meant to shoulder the burden and pain it entailed, and so, learning to deal with heartache and sorrow. 

Over the course of the last five years, there had been plenty of said heartache and sorrow, of struggle and strife. However, alongside it, there had also been joy, laughter, and hope. 

Yes, throughout both highs and lows, his precious friends had stood beside him. 

And he was moving on. 

...No, really. 

He truly, definitely, has been moving on. Beyond doubt.

Ren Amamiya was, from the very beginning, the pillar that held and bound the Phantom Thieves together. He had, as a leader, the responsibility to remain steadfast and strong. 

After all of these years, that is something that had never truly changed. 

It is only natural for him to be strong. After all, he really is incredibly lucky. 

When you’re surrounded by so many friends, so many people ready to watch your back and support you should you falter, how could anyone be anything but strong?

As he goes through his daily life, five years after wrongfully put on probation, Ren Amamiya continues to be saved by those cherished bonds he made during his time in Tokyo. With all of his faults, he feels he can overcome any hurdle so long as he has his friends by his side. 

...95% of hurdles, at least.

In the five years he had known them, Ren there had only been two instances that could be seen as serious mistakes. That was, he wagered, a fairly good track record. Especially when both of those things had occurred back when they were still teenagers. If only their consequences didn’t loom heavily over them —him, specifically—even now. 

With time, Ren’s two mistakes became the Phantom Thieves’ two taboos. 

Between a group of inseparable friends, these were the only two topics best left unbreeched and forgotten. 

The first of the two was, of course, Ren’s love life during their teenage years.

In hindsight, the entire ordeal had been incredibly stupid.

Kind-hearted and serviceable to the point of idiocy, Ren was always the type to overextend himself in his attempts to help others. The one thing he wanted, he told himself, was to make everyone happy. Led by a profound fear of disappointing those he cares about, he had ended up putting himself in an absurd situation that only resulted in the opposite. 

Shortly after his release from juvie, the evening of February 15th, 2017, had been one of the most mortifying moments in Ren’s young life and, to this day, he didn’t know how he had made it out alive. 

By the time he was seventeen, Ren had stood up before corrupt adults, escaped death, faded from reality, battled not one but _two_ false gods, and done jail time. Even despite all that, this date, somehow, still ranked highly up there, as an unforgettable, humiliating event that he wanted nothing more but to suppress into the furthest depths of his psyche, never to be recalled or brought to light ever again. 

Such a description is, as is to be expected, a complete over-exaggeration. The comical melodrama served as a wonderful means of deflection on the rare occasion it _was_ brought up, usually by either Sojiro or Futaba.

In the grand scheme of things, it was probably meaningless. 

Silly. Funny. _Hilarious,_ even.

Thinking about it did nothing other than make him wish he could fade out of existence and disappear into the void. Perhaps the universe had decided against it, knowing full well that there was no better punishment than allowing him to wallow in shame for the rest of his days.

That seemed fair. Ren didn’t think he would ever be able to forget the look of anger, disappointment, and hurt that shadowed the expressions of the five girls that had walked into Leblanc that day.

To be frank, Ren had never had any sort of romantic experience before his arrival in Tokyo and, to say that it had quickly spiralled out of control during his days as a Phantom Thief was a severe understatement.

Getting the chance to spend time with others is something Ren treasures above everything else. 

As he sits with them, hearing about their troubles, getting to know them, learning about ways to help and encourage them, he always feels at ease. 

Every person he has spent time with is someone who has embedded themselves deeply into Ren's heart. He loves them all, in vastly different ways, that much is true.

However, even with all the types of love that started filling his life, the difference between romantic and platonic love is something that, to this day, he struggles to tell apart.

Back at that time, he thought that perhaps the fondness he felt towards these girls —peers, teammates, friends— was what “love”, the one you see in stories, and poems, and dramas, was supposed to feel like. 

Among the things Ren is unlikely to ever excel at, perhaps he is most helpless when it comes to saying “No” to someone he loves. 

There usually came a point when one of his confidants, his dear friends, would look at him bashfully and, as they spoke, their words filled with warmth and anticipation, Ren _thought_ he knew what they were expecting from him. 

Once he understood, he couldn’t find it in him to reject them. 

It first happened with Ann. 

Followed by Hifumi. 

And then Makoto. 

Later on, it was Haru. 

As if that hadn't been enough, Sumire did, too.

By the time February came along, they had fought against God, and rejected Maruki’s reality, and he had been in _prison_ and the least of his worries had been Valentine’s day and his multiple girlfriends. All of a sudden, that day had come and he couldn’t find it in himself to do anything but freeze in fear as his finger hovered over their contacts in his phone. 

In the end, he had chosen to do nothing.

Ryuji and Yusuke had joined him at some point but, as the three of them sat moping in Leblanc, Ren knew this was just a way to stall the inevitable. 

And then the inevitable came and chaos ensued. 

His attempt not to hurt anyone had backfired into a mangled web of lies in which he strung five girls along for months. 

When they gave him a lashing that day, berating him for his cheating, he thought he was getting what he deserved. 

Now, almost five years after the fact, he sincerely believed that, in all honesty, he deserved far, far worse. 

So, Ren was a jackass who had managed to sour his last month in Tokyo with a stupendously idiotic blunder, and hurt the feelings of his close friends, jeopardizing their relationship in the process. 

The most shocking part of it all was that, somehow, all of them had still managed to forgive him. 

That they had made him feel awfully guilty. However, that single miracle was one of the reasons that he was sure that, no matter what life may throw at them, these friendships could never be broken.

...At the cost of a permanent beto on the subject. 

For the leader of the Phantom Thieves, Ren sure had been a stupid and indecisive kid.

It’s what he gets, for going into not one, not two, but five relationships without being sure of his own feelings. 

What romantic love _is_ or whether he’s ever felt it, he’s not sure, even now. 

Tying into the theme of feelings he doesn’t think he’ll ever come to understand, is Ren’s second mistake: _Goro Akechi._

Whenever Ren thinks about him, the first things that come to mind are sorrow and grief. 

The regret of failing to reach Akechi, failing to help or save him. 

He has to force himself, during those times, to remember that their fight is not yet over. 

That, much like the bonds that ties him to the rest of the Phantom Thieves, the rest of his confidants, the connection he has with Akechi is something that, even after deceiving and hurting each other, cannot simply disappear. 

As long as he lives, the promise between them is something that he needs to uphold.

Said thought replaces the feeling of loss with that of hope and anticipation. With the determination to continue to grow stronger until they come to meet again. 

But, with every passing year, those feelings are tested. The more time passes the more they become muddled with anger and frustration. Grief is a helpless, asphyxiating feeling. More so when the subject of your grief is someone who cannot be named to your support system. 

And so, doubt seeps in. 

Because perhaps, there’s no point to hoping at all. 

Akechi hasn’t come back yet because he’s gone after all, what then?

The only answer he’s able to reach is the fact he needs to move on and make peace with the fact their promise will never be fulfilled. 

What if Ren had reached out to him earlier? 

Could he have been able to save him?

He spirals, and the cycle begins again.

As a consequence, Ren has decided that maybe it’s for the best that he doesn’t think of Akechi at all.

So he locks the worn black glove away and pretends it never existed. After his sudden disappearance on a December night, Akechi gradually disappeared from the public consciousness. Through most days, Ren tries to live much like everyone who has forgotten the missing Ace Detective, and thoughts of Akechi don’t cross his mind at all. 

Throughout 362 days a year, Ren is, for the most part, successful in this endeavour. Choosing to forget him entirely, is not something he can bring himself to do. Thus, there are three exceptions to this rule.

Akechi’s birthday is the first of them. 

By June 2nd, 2018, Ren had returned to Tokyo after graduating highschool and settled down in Leblanc’s attic temporarily. Futaba and Sojiro had welcomed him back with open arms. Until he found a more permanent living arrangement, that is. 

Sae had mentioned it before, in passing, when discussing the investigation surrounding Akechi’s disappearance. When the date came around, Ren was overcome by a wave of what the jaded boy had once called his “brainless sentimentality”. 

Tucking Akechi’s glove into his pocket, Ren’s legs carried him without thinking and, before he knew it, he had spent his day going to places he had once visited with the detective. 

That one trendy cafe, where Ren had tousled Akechi’s hair and lent him his glasses. 

The arcade in Akihabara, a place Ren was certain Akechi had used as an excuse to deliver a thinly veiled threat under the guise of friendly competition.

The bathhouse in Yongen-Jaya, where he had first heard the details behind Akechi’s mother. 

Ren really did think, back then, through their outings and their nights spent at Leblanc, that they were making some progress. 

He walked up to the train line in Shibuya where Mementos once stood, and was reminded, once again, about Akechi’s glove and their unfinished duel.

Ren paced mindlessly through it all, until midnight. 

As the date changed, Ren knew at once that this was something that he would continue to do every year. It wasn’t only that he wanted to. More than a gesture of remembrance, it felt like a moral obligation. 

It was almost as if, by walking through the places he knew, Ren was one day bound to stumble into Akechi again. 

Out of all the places Akechi had shown him, it was curious that the only one he never visited during Akechi’s birthday was the Jazz Jin. In fact, Ren avoided going to the Jazz Jin at all. 

Morgana had often suggested he invite some of his other friends and enjoy the live music together. The idea was tempting, to be sure, Ren had never mustered the courage to do it. Bringing someone else to a place Akechi held dear seemed like a violation of the silent trust between them, so he never did. 

Instead, Ren went to the Jazz Jin once a year, at the beginning of February, on the anniversary of the last time the two of them had seen each other. Every time, he would clutch the glove in his pocket tightly until closing. 

This, too, was brainless. 

All of the former Phantom Thieves, as well as Sae and Sojiro, knew of Ren’s yearly pilgrimages. No one questioned them, no one interfered. They understood, or tried to understand, and let him be. 

The third date, however, was one he never spent alone.

Ren always told himself that there was nothing special about December 16th. 

There were painful memories surrounding that day, but treating it as anything other than just another day would mean admitting that he believed Akechi had truly died in the boiler room and sunk in that ship, never to be found again. 

So, much like all the other complicated feelings he held towards the detective, Ren had made the choice to ignore it. 

Unlike his other attempts, he was hardly, if ever, successful on that date. 

It was a good thing that his friends were quick to pick up on it, on how his spirit seemed to sink more rapidly than that distorted, cognitive cruiser on the days leading up to that day. As the reliable friends they were, they seldom allowed their esteemed leader to spend it alone. 

There was never an official reason for their gatherings. It was something none of them had ever spoken of it out loud, at least not to his face, and Ren was grateful for it. 

For the last couple of years, he spent December 16th thinking about the present, about his friends. He wouldn’t spare a thought to the mournful past with his rival-slash-ally-slash-traitor-slash-attempted murderer-slash-friend. 

Because there was no point in doing that. 

It is December 16th 2021 today. 

Eight friends in their early twenties and a cat are sitting in Haru’s apartment, eyes fixed on the large screen before them as it plays the latest Featherman film. 

Ann and Ryuji are, as usual, hogging over the snacks and making quips at each other as they battle for the last handful of popcorn. The volume of their bickering is carefully regulated by Makoto, who shoots both of them piercing glares whenever their voices become anything but whispers. Haru, ever the gracious hostess, giggles quietly as she watches over them, and occasionally leaves the room so she can return with refills. She takes a seat next to Makoto, and the latter makes sure to bring Haru up to speed with all the details she’s missed during her kitchen trip, speaking in a hushed whisper into the other girl’s ear. For a moment, Ryuji seems like he wants to complain about the equity of speaking privileges, but another of Makoto’s icy glare silences any objections he might have raised.

Futaba sits in the centre, her mouth open and her eyes unblinking as she watches the action unfold. This isn’t the first time she’s seen it, Ren knows, and there’s no need for her to feign interest. Even so, she’s transfixed. As if watching for the first time, she enjoys it with genuine excitement and delight. Beside her, Yusuke too, refuses to blink. He’s brought a sketchbook, as per usual, and Ren can’t help but think that he is, somehow, managing to make studies of the most visually striking scenes without even sparing the page a second glance. There is something quite endearing about both of them, so deeply immersed in the things they love, putting their full attention on them as if nothing else —namely Ryuji’s and Ann’s nonsense— exists in the world. It brings a smile to his face. 

Curled up to Ren’s left, is Morgana. He places his hand gently on the cat’s head and scratches behind his ears. Mona purrs happily in return, before getting embarrassed and moving away. His cat’s prideful self makes him chuckle, and he feels at ease. 

Sitting to Ren’s right is, at last, Sumire. 

She’s sitting closely, their shoulders touching. Her head is tilted slightly towards him and Ren can’t help but think that, any moment now, she’ll lean her head on his. 

He tries to dispel the thought almost as quickly as it comes, scolding himself for even considering these things. 

Sumire is an earnest girl. Somehow, even after lying to her, after letting her down as both her upperclassman and her boyfriend, she still somehow treats him with gentleness and affection. After what happened back then, he can’t imagine any of the girls that surround him today ever being able to feel anything towards him beyond friendship and contempt. 

Sumire’s kindness and forgiveness, he thinks, does tend to surpass his expectations.

Whether the brief touches between them have any meaning, he doesn’t know. 

He doesn’t know whether he wants them to, either. 

His thoughts, alongside the heated exchange between White and Pink, are interrupted by Makoto’s cell phone ringing. Everyone in the room groans in unison, followed by Ryuji’s victorious laughter, who seems to think that, with Makoto’s misstep, his honour has been avenged. Those hopes are blasted away when he’s hit by Yusuke and Futaba’s combined ire, a chilling smile from Haru, and Ann’s elbow on his stomach. Makoto quickly apologises and excuses herself. She steps into the balcony and their attention goes back to the movie, not paying the incident any mind. 

When Makoto comes back into the room, her face is pale and her lips pursed. She stands there, in place, as if mustering courage to speak. The sight of it is so strange, so uncharacteristic of her, that it makes Ren's stomach churn. 

“Ren,” she finally calls out. 

At that moment, everyone’s eyes are, once again, on her. It’s not annoyance or irritation in their faces, but an unreadable expression that Ren can’t manage to unpack. 

“...It’s sis, she wants to speak to you.” Makoto holds her phone out towards him with an unsteady hand and he feels himself frown. 

This alone is enough to break whatever pleasant, familiar atmosphere had surrounded them until that moment. 

Futaba pauses the movie and Yusuke lowers his sketchbook. Without a word, Haru gets up and goes back into the kitchen. Ann puts the snacks down and signals at Ryuji to take them, but he no longer seems interested in eating. Morgana hops off the couch and looks up at Ren, that cryptic expression in his eyes. Sumire also moves away, she gets up and turns the lights on. 

It all feels blinding, all of a sudden. 

“You guys keep going, it’s fine. Just, yell for me to come running if Gray Pigeon makes it back or something.” 

Usually, when he says these things, Futaba is the first to sneer and scoff at the suggestion. She’ll mock him for being invested in a poorly-written character who is clearly long gone, and he’ll grasp at his chest dramatically, signalling how much her words wound him. 

Today, Futaba just nods and gives a quiet “Okay” and it makes Ren feel sick as he takes Makoto’s phone and walks towards the balcony. 

There isn’t any real explanation for the dread that has so abruptly overcome him, for the tension that now inexplicably hangs over the room. At that moment, it’s as if there is nothing except the weight of his body, the phone in his hand, and the deafening pounding of his heart. Each step he takes is slow and tortuous. The second it takes him to bring the phone to his ear feels like a lifetime. 

“Sae-san?” he musters out.

“Amamiya-kun, I need you to listen to me carefully.”

He manages to force out a weak chuckle, “Wow, nice to hear from you too, Sae. What’s with the ominous greeting? Are you calling me to tell me they’re locking me back up or something?”

He’s stalling. 

“You…” Sae cuts herself off and sighs, exasperated. She doesn’t honour his question with a response. There’s a shift in her tone before she continues, “It’s about Akechi-kun.”

He knows, instantly, that doesn’t want to hear it. 

“I—”

But Sae doesn’t let him finish. 

“It’s been a long time. Heavens know how it happened, but it seems there was finally a lead in the investigation,” she pauses, only for a moment, to inhale deeply, “I don’t have the details yet but, it appears they have found a body. He...” another pause. Her voice shakes, almost imperceptibly, “Officially, he’s no longer missing.”

 _Because he’s dead_. 

She doesn’t say it, but she doesn’t have to. 

The implicit meaning of her words is easy for anyone to understand. 

Except Ren doesn’t.

He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand because it makes no sense because Akechi didn’t die. Akechi is out there, somewhere, preparing for their duel. And he will come back one day, hoping to catch him unprepared, and they will, at last, settle the score. And Ren wants to argue, to yell at Sae for even suggesting it. To tell her it’s a setup, that it’s surely Shido’s acolytes and whatever remnants of his rotten allies trying to tie any loose ends. 

Words fail him, his mind goes blank, and he says nothing. 

“They seem certain. I wanted to be the one to let you know. With how little the public seems to remember him, it’s unlikely there will be ample coverage, but I wanted to make sur—”

Ren doesn’t register when she says that. 

He doesn’t register when his friends call out to him, or when he puts the phone down, or when he reaches for his shoes and his jacket and makes it for the front door and runs as fast as he can away from the apartment. 

Away from his friends, away from Sae's voice, away from any thoughts of Akechi. 

He’s unsure about how much he spent running, or where he was headed, or what he was planning with it all. He only really comes to only when he’s completely left breathless. His legs ache, threatening to give way and crumble beneath him at a moment’s notice, and yet it’s nothing compared to the feeling in his chest. 

When he looks around, he finds that he has made his way to Kichijoji. 

Ren only visited the Jazz Jin once a year, and that once a year had never been December 16th. Because there’s nothing special about that day. 

Without giving it a second thought, he pays the entry fee and steps in. 

He sits alone for what seems both an eternity and a single instant. Most of it is a blur. He doesn’t think of anything. He stares, blankly, at the untouched drink in front of him.

Until _that_ song, that dreadful, wretched, damn _song_ , begins to play. 

_No more What-ifs? What a joke._

And it triggers _something_ —he’s not sure what— and whatever it is snaps inside of him and, in an instant, the numbness gives way to the pain and tears start rolling down his face and there’s no stopping them.

His sobs become louder and a part of the back of his head screams at him, fully aware that he’s going to get kicked out of the jazz club because he’s _wailing_ like a child despite being sober but he doesn’t care, because he doesn’t want to stop, and he can’t find it in himself to give a single fuck because Akechi’s...Akechi is…

The feeling of a hand placed against his cheek brings him back to reality, and he looks up to meet Sumire’s ever-gentle eyes. 

“I’m glad I found you, senpai.” 

She smiles so softly, Ren feels like he’s being stabbed. 

He doesn’t reply, and she doesn’t say anything else. Sumire places her hand on his lap, and they listen to the music in silence until he’s ready to leave. 

They walk, side by side, through the streets of Kichijoji. As they do, their shoulders brush together once again. Feeling self conscious, Ren is the one who, at last, speaks up. 

“You didn’t have to come for me”

Sumire looks up, surprised, before smiling again. She locks her arm with his. “Of course I did. We were worried about you, you know?” He has no response for that, so she continues, “I know no one really talks about it. About _him_ , I mean, about Akechi-senpai. But I don’t want you to think you have to deal with it by yourself.”

“It’s...not easy to talk about.”

“I understand.” she nods, "Just know that I'll be here if you want me to."

Ren stops moving. Sumire raises her eyebrows and turns to face him. He meets her eyes for a second before looking away.

"Why are you so kind to me?"

For a moment, there's silence once again. 

"Because you’re still someone I look up to, senpai." She says, at last. "You’ve seen me at my weakest. So, I want you to rely a little bit on me too, please."

In what he assumes is an attempt to comfort him, she squeezes his arm. He still can't bear to look at her face, "I've hurt you, too."

She tenses up slightly at first, but this is quickly followed by a sad chuckle and a nod, "That's true, you really messed up, back then, but…" Sumire looks away and lets go of his arm, and lowers her own slowly, "...I don't think I could ever bring myself to hate you…"

A stab, a kick, a punch. 

None of these would be able to describe the way Sumire's tender words hit him.

She takes a couple steps forward, leaving his side.

"I know you can be a little misguided at times but, your heart’s in the right place." With that said, she turns around and flashes a shy smile, and Ren feels all the air in his lungs escape him.

"You are my beloved senpai, after all."

A shot. 

When he looks back on it later, he's not sure what, exactly, possesses him to do what follows.

Perhaps it’s the heat of the moment, or Sumire's smile, or his grief draining him of all rational thought. Or perhaps it isn't grief but the need to forget, to think of something, anything, that allows him to escape from whatever he's feeling. Perhaps he simply wanted, more than ever, to feel wanted, and needed, and _loved,_ and, and...

...there stood Sumire. 

So, as if on cue, Ren takes a step forward.

He raises his hand and places it lightly on her cheek.

Slowly, he traces her lower lip with his thumb and, at last, closes the distance between them.

It’s a short-lived kiss.

For a second, Ren _thinks_ he feels Sumire kissing him back, but she pulls away before he can be certain.

Sumire looks up at him, wide-eyed. There isn’t, Ren realises, any disgust in her expression. In its stead, there is surprise, sadness, _pity_.

“Senpai…”

Ren takes a step back, the weight of his actions slowly creeping in. He looks at Sumire in horror, and he desperately scrambles and searches for words to fix it, “I’m sorry. I... _fuck_. Please forgive me, Sumire.”

“Don’t...don’t apologise, senpai.” Despite what she says, every word she speaks drags him further down into guilt and remorse, “It’s just...if...if you do this sort of thing, I would like you to be sure of your feelings, and right now…”

He interrupts, “Yes, yes. Of course. I’m so sorry, I...I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Like I said, there’s no need to apologise, really. It’s been a long day…just let me walk you home, is that okay?” She tries to smile again, and as she extends her kindness to someone he knows does not deserve it, Ren thinks he might vomit.

“...I...I don’t think so. I’m sorry, Sumire. I think...I think I need to be alone for a bit. Clear my head and all.” “ I’ll text you when I get home. I...I’ll be okay, promise.”

Sumire looks at him, pensive, and Ren can’t stop thinking about how inherently good she is. Every time he speaks comes with blunder after blunder, and despite it all, Sumire still smiles, “...Okay then. I’ll hold you to that, senpai!”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. Thanks for everything.” Ren makes it a point to bow as deeply as his body allows him to, “And...I’m sorry, again.”

“I told you, it’s no problem.” She chuckles at the gesture and pats his back in reassurance, “I’ll see you tomorrow, senpai.”

“Of course.”

With that, Ren walks her to the train station and they finally part ways. It’s not long after she’s gone that he is, once again, overcome by numbness. He doesn’t think of Sumire, or of the shame he feels, or of the pain in his chest, and the way it feels like the world is crumbling down. 

Most of all, he definitely does not think of Goro Akechi. 

He needs a drink, he decides. 

After stepping into the nearest bar he can find, he gets just that. 

It’s a surprisingly cosy place, he comes to find. Had Leblanc been a bar, perhaps this is what it might have looked like. The lights are slightly dimmed, and the atmosphere, upon his arrival, is pleasant and somewhat lively. There are a couple other patrons, here and there, chatting and eating the night away. Ren doesn’t really spare any of them a second look, and he proceeds to take a seat in one of the empty booths. It isn’t long before the waitress comes back with the drink he ordered. 

One drink then turns into three and, by the time he’s halfway through his fourth, Ren completely loses count. 

So now Ren’s both a jackass and a drunk, but that suits him well, because whatever thoughts that had been haunting him before became nothing more than a jumbled, incoherent mess that had no chance of hurting him any further. 

Whatever the waitress tells him later is completely lost in his stupor.

He grunts in an attempt to order another glass, but he’s not sure he ever gets to drink it. 

There’s someone who stands next to his booth and he initially assumes it’s the waitress. However, instead of placing a drink on the table, they take a seat in front of him. Despite the confusion, he knows this stranger has his full attention. 

Some words are spoken and, after a while, the world fades to black. 

* * *

When Ren comes to, at the start of December 17th 2021, he’s greeted by the dull, splitting headache of a well-earned hangover. He blinks, eyes tearful as they adjust to the early morning light. Heaven knows how he managed, but he’s relieved to find that he somehow made his way back to his apartment. After the events that transpired the night prior, his body feels worn and exhausted. 

_That’s what I get._ He supposes. 

All things considered, it’s a good thing he’s back home in one piece. 

Now that he’s gotten whatever that was out of his system (because he most _certainly_ got it _completely_ out of his system and he’ll move past it like he always does and he’ll never think about it again and everything will be _fine_ ) he can think about texting his friends and letting them know he’s alright. 

And he’ll talk with Sumire properly, as well. 

For now, Ren decides it’s fine for him to sleep for just a little bit longer. 

He shifts and turns in his bed, and it is at that moment that he finally faces the major problem that had somehow, until now, escaped his notice. 

Sleeping next to him, chest rising and falling with steady breaths, is the bare form of who he can only recognise as Goro Akechi.


	2. Day 1

The moment Ren wakes up to the sight of Goro Akechi sleeping soundly beside him, barely 12 hours after the latter had been declared dead, he immediately believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

Condensed into the course of a single second, Ren believes that he might have gone through a rush of emotions more intense than he has felt in the last four years. Shock and relief, horror and glee, anger and embarrassment are all intertwined in an all too confusing mass of emotion that he can’t even imagine beginning to untangle. 

Only when he sees the brunette glancing back at him does Ren realise that he’s forgotten how to breathe. 

It turns out that his eyes were indeed deceiving him, and it takes Ren another second to fully realise that the man lying by his side is not actually his dead rival.

“Well, good morning to you too.” says the lookalike, his voice is smooth and his tone is calm, but it’s difficult to ignore the implicit playfulness of it all. He then sits up next to Ren, stretching his arms and neck in a feline motion. The bedsheets fall onto his lap, revealing a slim, but well defined upper body. His hair isn’t as long, and Ren’s gaze falls on the exposed nape of his neck; his thoughts stray to a September evening spent in the bathhouse of Yongen-jaya and—

“It would do you well to close your mouth, Amamiya-kun. Drooling is in poor taste.”

Being called by his surname gives him enough of a shock to force him to refocus. There’s something quite shameful about being caught ogling, but he cannot help but to compare all the details to the person —to the _memory_ of a person— he once knew. So he continues to study the other man intently. 

The dead giveaway, Ren concludes, are the eyes. 

Not only is the colour different, but these eyes are brighter, livelier. Less jaded, less cynical, less tired. Nonetheless, the light amber colour is rather pretty... 

“...I’m afraid I don’t know what to make of that face you’re making. Care to enlighten me?”

He’s almost impressed. The resemblance is striking. 

Uncanny, in fact. If he wasn’t still struggling to grasp the situation, it might have terrified him. 

“Hmm...” On the other hand, the stranger is completely unimpressed by Ren’s lack of response. He appears irritated, in fact. “You...seem terribly distracted. I fear might have misjudged you.”

The stranger sighs and gets up, putting the sheets to the side. Ren suppresses a gasp and is relieved to see not-Akechi is at least wearing boxers. “It’s quite disappointing, but I take it that last night’s wit was a result of the alcohol in the end?”

“Oh, wow,” that comment puts Ren’s mind into motion, the honeyed tone in which he’s being berated, “...Yeah, you’ve caught me. I happen to be totally witless sober.” 

A snide grin creeps onto his lips before he adds, “What about you? Are we thanking the alcohol for your splendid judgement or are the poor choices organically grown?”

“Oh, _wow_ ,” the other echoes, caught off guard, and looks at Ren in mild shock. He crosses his arms and tilts his head, “charming, aren’t you? Is that the first thing you say after waking up to all of your conquests, or did I get lucky?”

Ren huffs, grin spreading, “Eh, honestly, from the looks of it, I’d say we both got lucky last night.” 

An awkward silence takes over the room as they both survey the other. Ren considers apologising, but the other man ends up breaking the tension with a small laugh, flashing a coy smile. 

“Ah...to be completely honest with you, I’m...a little embarrassed, _this…”_ he gestures at the room, _“..._ isn’t something I do often.”

Ren scratches the back of his neck and shakes his head, “Oh no, if it makes you feel better, I don’t either...”

That prompts a raised eyebrow from his guest, “You had me fooled, then. After all, you were the one who...ah, well, _propositioned_ …”

Memories start coming back, vague, fragmented, fuzzy, but they’re there. The moment he mistook this man for the waitress and had frozen in the spot upon seeing Akechi’s likeness. One thing led to another and they had sat together until...

“...I did, huh…?” Ren exhales and holds his head, “Agh, I’m sorry. I’m being a jerk. The hangover’s hitting me pretty hard and everything’s kinda blurry…”

The man frowns, scoffs, and adds, “I do hope you work hard for my forgiveness.” 

“Anything I can do to make it up to you?” Ren glances up again, sheepish and dejected. 

“Well…” A haughty smirk takes over the visitor’s face, as one who finds themselves victorious in a contest, “I believe you mentioned something about coffee and curry last night? I wouldn’t mind taste testing as compensation, if you’ll oblige me.”

“Yeah, that sounds…” There’s something oddly comforting about the request. It makes Ren’s apprehension, along with his common sense, fade away. Fortunately for him, the clock is there to ground him back into reality, “...Ah shit”

It is way past seven, and a class at eight to get to. Ren jumps out of bed and grabs the first clothes he finds, “Okay, put a pin on that idea, but I really have to run.”

“Oh?” 

“There’s a lecture I can’t miss today, I really gotta…” he struggles to put his pants on, hitting his knee against the drawer, “Ow.”

“...I guess it can’t be helped. Next time, then.” There is disappointment in the man’s voice, and Ren feels some, too. 

“Next time, promise.” Despite not thinking it through, Ren says so with absolute certainty. 

The other blinks, “I’ll hold you to it.”

* * *

The weight of the promise he just made only fully sinks in by the time he’s already arrived at the station, and Ren realises that perhaps he doesn’t need to be drunk to be completely out of his wits. Morgana’s absence gives him plenty of time to gather his thoughts as he stands in the train. The more he replays through last night’s events, the more he becomes convinced that he’s so stupid he might just be beyond helping. 

To recap the last 12 hours, he first had an inexplicable, overblown reaction to the news Sae had given him, and ran away from his friends. He then kissed Sumire, who had been trying to console him, proceeded to get wasted and hooked up with some dude who looked eerily alike to the guy whose death had triggered this entire chain of events to begin with, and now had left said dude in his apartment, unsupervised, after promising to meet up with him again in the future. 

Alright, so there _might_ be a lot to unpack here.

Ren’s life has had its fair share of nonsense and he was no stranger to stupid decisions. Even so, the sheer amount of poor choices over the course of the last day was nothing short of astonishing. 

It’s fine, though. He can fix this. 

Talk to his friends. Clear things up with Sumire. Hope his apartment hasn’t been robbed and nip whatever’s going on with Akechi’s doppelganger in the bud. 

_Easy._

Akechi, well…that can wait. 

Thanks to his phone blowing up with worried messages and missed calls, the train ride isn’t uneventful. If nothing else, he can attempt to piece together whatever happened the night prior with timestamps, bits and pieces. 

He had missed an astounding 32 calls from his friends, the first of which had happened at around 9:35 p.m. These came accompanied with a stream of texts asking, demanding, pleading he pick up the phone and tell them where he was. Shortly after, it seemed that Futaba had tracked his phone and located him in the Jazz Club, prompting someone to fetch him, to which Sumire had volunteered straight away. 

  
  


**16/12/21 21:58**

> **Sumire:** You were right! I see him! 
> 
> **Haru:** Thank goodness…
> 
> **Ryuji:** what the hell’s he doing in a freakin jazzclub???
> 
> **Yusuke:** ...Could it be that he is “jazzing it up”?
> 
> **Futaba:** NOT THE TIME INARI
> 
> **Yusuke:** My apologies. That was tasteless of me. 
> 
> **Yusuke:** Moreover, is he alright?
> 
> **Sumire:** I think so?
> 
> **Ryuji:** ok cool, bring his ass back so we can yell at him
> 
> **Ann:** ugh, seriously? Do all guys have to be so tactless?
> 
> **Ryuji:** uh
> 
> **Ryuji:** bring his ass back so Makoto can yell at him????????????????
> 
> **Makoto:** Ryuji. 
> 
> **Ryuji:** SORRY MAAM
> 
> **Makoto:** The important thing here is that we’ve located him in one piece and that he’s not alone. 
> 
> **Haru:** Mako-chan’s right. 
> 
> **Haru:** Do you think you can make sure he gets home, Sumire-chan?
> 
> **Sumire:** Roger that! Leave senpai to me!
> 
> **Ann:** Oh!!! don’t forget to tell him to go to bed as soon as he gets home
> 
> **Ann:** \- Mona
> 
> **Sumire:** Of course!
> 
> **Makoto:** At any rate, please take care of yourself, Ren. 
> 
> **Yusuke:** Indeed. Your well-being is paramount to us all. 
> 
> **Ryuji:** WHAT THEY SAID seriously dont push it dude
> 
> **Ann:** Yeah! Remember you can count on us always! We’re here for you, leader!
> 
> **Futaba:** mwehehe, you can run but you cant hide from us! ✧٩(•́⌄•́๑)
> 
> **Haru:** Please have a good night, Ren-kun. 

A smile makes its way up Ren’s lips as he continues to scroll through the messages. As always, talking to his friends comes with a warm, snug feeling in his chest. The playful tone is familiar and welcoming, and it reminds him of why he cares about them as much as he does. 

Objectively, much has changed in the past years. Whether it was because of their studies or careers, each one of them took on their own, individual path. They were often much busier, or further away from each other, and the large group gatherings they held during their highschool days didn’t come as easily as they once did.

But that didn’t matter.

They kept in touch, continued to share in their successes and failures, saw each other whenever possible. Within them, he has a place where he’ll always belong, and that makes him feel safe. In that sense, perhaps not much has changed at all. 

—Yes, nothing has changed. 

Even after what Sae said last night, nothing _has_ to change. 

He’s happy as things are. He has been for a long time. 

On instinct, he quickly types and sends a reply.

**17/12/21 7:46**

**Ren:** sorry I gave you guys so much trouble

 **Ren:** it’s all good now but thanks for everything

 **Ren:** I love you guys 

  
  


There isn’t much to it beside his genuine thanks and appreciation but, the moment it is sent, the warmth in Ren’s chest is replaced by a sudden emptiness.

He blinks at the screen blankly as he rereads his own words over and over until they no longer mean anything, until they no longer resemble words at all. 

_I love you guys._

Deciding not to linger on this unknown discomfort, he closes the group chat and continues going through his messages. 

There are two things that strike him as unusual. 

First is his message history with Sumire. He finds that he texted her, shortly after 11 p.m, telling her that he’s just gotten back home. Not only does he not remember sending the text but, after some quick mental math, he knows that this is impossible. He’s not sure how much time passed between him meeting Sumire at the Jazz Jin and his blurry recollection of whatever happened at the bar, but he doubts it all happened within the span of an hour.

He spends a minute or two trying to calculate how long it would take for him to run from one place to another, but he finally settles for the explanation that, drunk as he had been, he had most likely lied to his friend to avoid worrying her. 

This seemed like the most suitable explanation. Probably. 

Then, there’s the considerable number of unopened notifications from Futaba. However, the moment he tries to open them, he finds that there are no new messages at all. 

If it were any other person, Ren would be inclined to believe that there’s a glitch to blame. With Futaba, though...well, he’ll make sure to ask her when he gets the chance. 

By the time he’s done sorting through the array of messages, the train arrives at his stop and he dashes out, making a run for it in hopes of reaching the lecture hall in time. 

* * *

Ren gets to class with seconds to spare, but it doesn’t do him any good. His sleep deprivation, alongside the remnants of a hangover make his head throb whenever the professor speaks. He catches himself almost dozing off on more than one occasion, and spends most of the lecture regretting not having Morgana with him to remember the material in his stead. 

Something something agape, something something pragma, something something philautia. 

He figures he’ll just have to borrow someone’s notes later on. 

Class time ends and he checks his phone to find a new text from Ryuji asking to meet up in Ogikubo for some ramen. Ren doesn’t have to think through it twice before agreeing to meet him there. 

He’s not out of campus when he feels someone grab him from behind. Ren gasps and jumps in place. With eyes widened, he turns around and finds Sumire smiling at him, full of smug satisfaction. 

“How’s that, senpai? I’m getting better at surprising you, aren’t I?” 

Ren’s soul returns to his body and allows himself to laugh as well, “Sumire, why are you…?”

“I told you I would see you today, didn’t I? Just wanted to make sure I followed through with that promise.” 

Promises, huh? Ren gulps, but shakes the thought away, “I’m all yours…” a pause, “...for the next, uh, 10 minutes, at least.” He glances back at his phone, checking the time, “I was actually on my way to meet Ryuji, but if you wanted to talk, I can tell him we can meet some other ti—”

“Oh, no, no!” Sumire interrupts and shakes her head, “Don’t let me keep you! I have practice to get to, but I wanted to make some time for you today. You…” her smile disappears, and she eyes him with concern, “You didn’t sleep much last night, did you…?

This makes him break out into a nervous laughter. He raises his hands in a theatrical gesture, like an apprehended criminal, “Guilty as charged…”

Sumire doesn’t seem too happy about his attempts at humour, and only pouts, “make sure you rest up today, okay? I wouldn’t want you to get sick, senpai…”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to head to bed early tonight…” he nods, apologetically. 

“Promise?”

“...Promise.”

“Good!” Sumire claps, smile back on her face, “Here, have this as a reward!”

“A reward…?” Ren watches her curiously as she searches through her bag. At last, she pulls out a small white and pink box and places it in his hands. 

“Yes! It’s a cupcake. Sugar releases endorphins and all that stuff, right? I bought it from this trendy store, so you don’t have to worry about it tasting like curry,” even her self-deprecating joke is delivered with a sense of pride, and it is actually fairly endearing, “Please eat up when you can!”

“Thanks, Sumire. You’re too kind.” The tightness in his chest throbs, and he can’t find it in himself to joke back. 

“It’s nothing, let me know how it tastes!” Sumire then begins to walk off, waving back at him with her typical enthusiasm “Oh, and say hi to Ryuji-senpai for me, yeah?”

“Yeah, good luck in practice” he says, then raises his voice in an attempt to sound more upbeat, “You better give it your all!” 

“Always, senpai!” 

The box in his hands feels all too heavy. 

* * *

Ryuji’s already waiting for him at their usual place in Ogikubo. They’ve barely started on their bowl when he gets his attempt at a serious discussion. It’s his best friend, but he dreads it all the same. 

“So, how you actually holdin’ up?” Ryuji asks in between mouthfuls. 

“Huh?” There’s nothing special about the question, but it makes Ren frown, “...I told you, I’m good.” 

“Eh, seriously?” his best friend does not buy it and, in typical Ryuji fashion, he doesn’t try to hide his disbelief. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean,” Ryuji chews on a slice of pork with his mouth open, “they all yell at me for being insensitive or whatever but, _dude_.”

“ _Dude_ what?” Ren has reason to believe that he’s skilled at hiding what he feels, but it seems that, for today, there’s no smoothing his expression. 

“You’ve seen yourself at all?” I don’t wanna be a dick, but you kinda look like ass.”

“How very un-dick-like of you.” If nothing else, it helps that Ryuji is so... _Ryuji._ The way he slurps and chews in the midst of a semi-serious conversation helps in bringing down whatever heaviness builds up around them, and it helps Ren relax. 

“Hey, you know what I mean...it’s just...did you get any sleep last night at all?”

Did a single restless night show on his face that easily?

“Well about that…” Ren tries to come up with an excuse and his phone buzzes with a timing so impeccable he believes it’s divine intervention.

A message from an unknown number flashes on the screen, and he opens it at once if only to have a way to divert Ryuji’s attention. 

**17/12/21 13:28**

> **011-81-XX-XXXX:** Good afternoon, Amamiya-kun. I hope you made it in time for your appointment this morning.
> 
> **011-81-XX-XXXX:** I wanted to apologise to you. After you left this morning, I took the liberty of borrowing some of your clothes. It appears that after last night mine weren’t in a state to be worn. 
> 
> **011-81-XX-XXXX:** I’ll return them at your soonest convenience. 
> 
> There’s a picture attached, and Ren doesn’t need to look at himself to know that his ears have grown pink upon seeing the guy with whom he spent the night wearing a white shirt and black jacket he instantly recognises as his. 

...Maybe the timing wasn’t impeccable as much as it was atrocious. 

He lowers his phone and smacks his forehead against the counter at top speeds. 

“Whoa, whoa! What’s up with you now?” the blond nudges him with his elbow, “Who was that?”

With his brain gone haywire, Ren finally breathes out, “…Ryuji, you’re my best friend right?” 

“Well, duh.” He replies with no hesitation, as usual. 

“So...I can let you in on a secret and you won’t tell the others, right?”

His friend swallows, “Uh oh.” 

Ren lifts his head up and eyes at him, pleading “Ryuji, please.”

“Okay, okay. Hit me, man.”

“Alright, so, uh…” Ren begins, “last night things got a little bit out of hand.”

“You tellin’ me…”

“And I think I might’ve gotten wasted and brought someone home.” 

This makes Ryuji put the plate down for the first time. He turns to Ren, his jaw dropped, “You— Wait— You hooked up? For real?!”

“Shhh, shhhhhh! Come on!” Ren elbows him back.

Ryuji becomes enraptured by the broth left in his bowl, “Okay, uh. Wow. I mean, uh, cool, cool, coolcoolcool…” 

“Yeah, thanks.” Ren groans, “That’s awfully reassuring.” 

“It’s just—” Ryuji gestures with his hands, as if waving them wildly in the air will give him a better understanding, or something smart to say, “I mean there’s nothing wrong with that or nothin’ but, I just kinda thought...weren’t you and Sumire kind of...y’know…”

That is exactly what Ren had feared. “...Does it look that way…?

“...A little bit. I dunno.” His friend winces, and it’s obvious that it’s awkward for him too “Did you want to…?”

“...I don’t know.” 

“ _Oof.”_

Ren also focuses into his ramen bowl, searching for answers. Unlike Ryuji’s, it is still mostly full. They both go silent. 

“So, uh, dude…” Ryuji tries to restart the conversation, “...they hot at least?”

_Of course he would ask that._

“They’re...uh,” _How_ can he even answer this question? Given the guy’s appearance, every reply he can come up with would be equally as compromising. _No, he’s lame._ Not only would that be objectively a lie, but it would make the entire thing all the more confusing. Then what? _He’s handsome? Attractive? Fine?_ As if he could say that. He doesn’t think that of Akechi, so there’s no way that he can—

“Yeah” Is all that comes out.

“‘Course they are. How come everyone’s always fallin’ for you?”

“My charm? Intelligence? How breathtakingly stunning I am when I take off my glasses?”

“Uh...no” his friend deadpans, “Definitely not.” 

It’s Ryuji’s phone that rings this time, and he takes a second to read through, “Yeah, figures…” he groans. 

“Hm?”

“Ann. It’s my turn to cook tonight. Always is.” Ryuji groans, but it seems to Ren that he doesn’t sound particularly annoyed. 

“You guys getting along?” 

“She’s not here often with all that model stuff, so it’s nice that she’s around these days, even if she’s always bossin’ me around.”

It hadn’t been long after the disbandment of the phantom thieves before Ann had started to seriously pursue her career as a model. Ryuji, too, had transferred in order to receive proper physical therapy for his leg. It had taken some time, but both of their efforts had borne fruit. Ann now spent most of her time modelling abroad, and Ryuji had been granted a chance at a better future with a track scholarship. Ren was aware he worked part time as often as he could to pay the rent for a better apartment for his mum to live in. The new place was a ways off from campus, though, and Ann had offered to chime in by letting Ryuji move into her own. The two of them often bicker, but Ren knows they trust and understand each other more than most. 

“...Do you ever think about it?” Ren muses. 

Ryuji doesn’t follow, “About what?”

“You know, dating Ann?”

The question makes his friend choke on his last bite of food. “Wha— Huh? No— Where did that—”

Ren just shrugs, counting his thoughts with his fingers as he states them, “You two have been friends forever, you’re roommates now, kind of, you basically share the same brain cell, and sometimes it really felt like you had a thing for her or something. I was never sure…”

Ryuji’s grimace is back, “Man...that’s your ex you’re talking about...”

“I don’t really feel like it counts.” Ren states, matter-of-factly, “I was a huge asshole back then and I hurt them really bad. I doubt any of them wants to count that as a real relationship…”

“Maybe you feel that way, but I’m pretty sure all of them liked you for real. Ann was pretty torn up about the entire thing.” another sigh, “Seriously, I thought _I_ was stupid…”

“That you are, my dude.” Ren smiles as he says that, and the comment earns him a piece of garlic thrown in his direction. 

“...But yeah, I mean…” Ryuji continues, “...it’s not like I’ve _never_ thought about it...but it just, it wouldn’t feel right, y’know?

“Ryuji, I think we’ve established that no, I do not know.” 

“It’s just...look, Ann’s great—don’t tell her that, she’ll never let me hear the end of it— I owe her a whole lot, and I’d do just about anything for her.” Not that Ryuji isn’t always honest, but Ren can tell he’s being especially sincere, “She’s gorgeous, obviously, I have friggin’ eyes. And we get along fine so yeah, it’s crossed my mind a couple times, but…”

“But?”

“I _love_ Ann, seriously, but I ain’t _in love_ with her, and I think I can do more for her as just a regular pal than as a boyfriend or somethin'. I wanna be there for her always. So nah, I wouldn’t really wanna date her.”

“Huh…” Ren hums, “...you know, Ryuji, sometimes I forget how sappy you are deep down.” 

“Hey! It’s not like it’s weird. _You’re_ my best friend, and _I love you_ man, but it’s not like I wanna date you, either…”

With that, Ren decides he’s had enough seriousness for a single day. He flutters his eyelashes and peeks at his friend with a look of faux-hurt, “You...you don’t? Oh, no…” he grabs a napkin and blows his nose, adding a fake sob for flavour, “...I’m so heartbroken...and to think I’ve been keeping the chocolate you gave me back then all this time…” 

As per usual, Ryuji’s bad at playing along. He turns back at Ren with dismay, “Now that’s just kinda gross.”

To which Ren replies with a dramatic gasp, “You think my feelings are gross?!”

“No, no! The chocolate! Who the hell keeps something like that for so long?!”

“My love for you is undying and several years past its expiration date.” 

“Ain’t those completely opposite things?!”

“Man… this is why you keep getting in trouble.” Ryuji quickly becomes exhausted, “...You keep flirting with people and then they catch feelings and then you feel bad rejectin' them and everyone loses.”

“Okay, that's…” Ren stops. As oblivious as Ryuji can be, his comment hits the mark. “...fair. Touché.”

“That's friggin' right. I got a lot more tooshays where that came from. Now, gimme your meat, it’s gettin’ cold.”

There is an _excellent_ joke to be made there, but maybe that’s been enough tormenting his best friend for a day. So Ren just laughs and slides his bowl over. 

“Never change, Ryuji.” 

* * *

_He can’t remember the exact date._

_When had it been again? Sometime in August, just before the start of fall term. Despite the fact it had been summer, there had been a special coldness in the air that day, as they stood on the rooftop. But he doesn’t believe it was the weather that sent shivers down his spine. There is, after all, something far more chilling about watching a girl stand in the same spot where, a couple months earlier, she had decided she would die._

_She steps towards the edge and, as she looks ahead, he is suddenly too conscious of how high up they stand. Strands of her dark hair sway gently in the breeze. Despite the fact a metal fence separates her from the ledge, he fears, for a second, that she’ll be carried away by a gust of wind._

_His concern is misplaced, however._

_Though her footing is unsteady and can barely hold her weight, the girl that stands here today is much stronger than she ever was._

_And, if she’s standing here teven now, it’s because of the friend by her side._

"That's why I wanted to stand again...It was because of you. Being able to change others, that's what true strength is."

_Ann, who’s standing next to him, gapes back at Shiho in surprise._

_Her eyes become mournful._

"Shiho...I'm not strong, I'm nothing without you...I'm just a lonely, scared girl..."

_Her tone is heavyhearted, but sincere, and, despite it all, she manages to smile. With tears running across her face, she makes a promise. A promise where, with her voice shaky, she speaks of the future, of a dream she’ll work towards._

"Ann..."

_He watches, out of place, as Shiho softens and holds her best friend closely while she cries. Deciding he’s intruded into something too intimate, too sacred, he chooses to turn aside._

"I love you..."

_And, along that declaration, there’s a promise spoken between sobs of a goodbye._

"Once I can smile again from the bottom of my heart, I'll come visit..."

_Shiho leaves with her family shortly after, but he stays behind with Ann._

_She tries to cheer up, but it isn’t long until she’s in tears once again._

"Dammit, I told myself I wouldn't cry...but it just won't stop...I guess I'm alone again, huh.."

_Hearing her say that is nothing short of heartbreaking. He thinks back to the time when she poured her heart out to him as they sat together in a Big Bang Burger. How scared and devastated she had been, how delicate she seems now..._

_He doesn’t want her to hurt that way ever again._

“You have me”

_Just like Shiho had prior, he wraps his arms around her and holds her in a tight embrace._

_Ann’s taken aback for a second, but then relaxes into the hug. With a deep breath, she presses her head against his shoulder and her voice comes out as barely more than a whisper._

"Ren...I love you..."

_He’s convinced he mishears her. That this is only the reply that went unsaid when Shiho held her._

"W-Wait,what did I just say?" _She pulls away, eyes wide._

 _So he gives her the chance to correct herself,_ “...I didn’t hear you.” 

"O-Oh you didn't?" _At first, she's relieved, but her smile becomes a frown and a flush takes over her cheeks,_ "Pay attention, damn it!"

 _Ann’s face becomes redder by the second, and her voice becomes louder, every word spoken with more fervour,_ "I'm only gonna say it one more time, all right!?"

_As he watches her, he is transported back to the unbearable summer heat._

"I really love you!" _she yells,_ "Like, REALLY really!"

_Within that very same heat, in return to her confession, just as it is in movies, his hands slide to her waist..._

"H-Hey, wait a-"

_...and he closes the distance between them._

_Ren shares his first kiss with one of the most beautiful girls he's ever met. It is clumsy and stiff, but he chalks it up to inexperience._

_There’s no turning back now, he figures..._

_It suddenly feels a little daunting._

* * *

Ren stops to buy a couple of beers before returning to his apartment that night. He opens a can and drinks as he goes through his phone. There’s the message from the unknown number, this stranger wearing his clothes, that he still hasn’t replied to. He doesn’t think he can bear opening it again, he doesn’t think he can bear seeing him. Deep inside, he knows it’s probably due to the same reason he can’t bring himself to call Sae.

With a large chug, he empties his first can and opens a second.

He receives a selfie from Ann, sitting at the dining table across from Morgana and Ryuji. It’s a good thing that he managed to convince Ryuji to keep Morgana for a couple more days. Before getting his cat back, he needs to make sure he cleans up the place and disposes of any evidence of his...accident the day prior. 

**17/12/21 22:13 P.M**

> **Ann:** Ryuji’s gotten a liiiiiittle bit better since last time
> 
> **Ann:** He still has a long way to go though!
> 
> **Ann:** We gotta make him cook for all of us together next!

**Ren:** Yeah, let’s soon

 **Ren:** Tell Mona to sleep early for me

> **Ann:** Oooh! You’re on thin ice Ren!

It makes him chuckle, and he drinks some more.

It’s the last thing he remembers before he falls asleep.

* * *

  
  


The next time he comes to, he has been completely enveloped by darkness. 

There's a bright outline at the end of the hall, in the shape of a door. He makes his way towards it, and pushes it open. 

Above him looms a bizarre, disjointed tower. Composed by haphazardly arranged blocks, its structure defies gravity. As for the rest of his surroundings, there’s only void. His phantom thief outfit, something he believed to have outgrown long ago, sticks to him like a second skin. 

Didn't he have this dream just the night before? Perhaps even before that, some time long ago…

His footing shakes, blocks beginning to crumble and collapse below him. He has no time to waste, and there's no way but up, unless he wants to fall alongside them into the abyss. 

He moves mostly on instinct, climbing with an understanding of someone who has done it in the past, and the ascent comes with ease. Soon enough, a bell tolls and echoes, announcing the proximity of his goal. What he recognises as the finish line appears as a platform, around ten steps up ahead. He pulls a couple of blocks, creating some room to work in as he begins to build a makeshift staircase that allows him to move forward. It’ll require some careful timing, but after running the numbers through his head, he knows he can make it work, should he move quickly enough. 

He’s so preoccupied by his strategy, that he fails to notice the brightly-coloured flames that come, like a shot, from the grisly depths beneath. They fly overhead and burst into a stream of pink that spirals down in his direction. 

"̸R̷e̸n̸.̶.̶"̸

The explosion catches him as he’s hanging off a block. There’s nowhere he can run to when the remnants of the blast falls in his direction. The hit makes him lose his grip on the edge he’s holding, and he drops several steps down. Joker attempts to scramble back to his feet, but there’s an alien sensation that rushes through his body like an overpowering fever. His breaths become heavy and shallow, and he becomes fixated upon only one thing: the voice that calls for him below.

"̸W̷i̶l̴l̵ ̶y̴o̷u̶ ̷s̵t̵a̴y̸ ̴b̶y̸ ̷m̸y̶ ̵s̷i̴d̷e̶ ̷f̸o̷r̶e̸v̶e̸r̴.̷.̴.̷?̸"̶

"̵I̷ ̷k̶i̴n̴d̸a̵ ̴n̷e̸e̷d̵ ̶y̶o̸u̷ ̵t̵o̶,̶ ̶a̸t̶ ̴t̶h̷i̴s̵ ̷p̷o̸i̶n̵t̵!̶"̸

Joker leans his back up against the block behind him, staying still despite the walls crumbling catching up.

“...Of course.” He says. 

_I’m yours forever._ He did make that promise, after all. 

At once, Ren closes his eyes and stops running.

. 

. 

.

_“What the hell are you doing?!”_

Another voice breaks through the daze, this one harsh and exasperated. Ren feels something akin to claws dig into his side, sending jolts of pain across his body. He looks up and finds the world spin around him as he’s forcibly grabbed and dragged up the steps.

The ground stops shaking, and the first voice disappears.

Once he’s no longer in any immediate danger, Ren is tossed to the ground like a potato sack. Along the dull pain from the fall, he’s unable to ignore the stinging of the fresh scratches on his stomach and left arm. He grits his teeth and endures the pain, and raises his head to look at the one who saved him. There’s something placed against his forehead when he does.

With a click, Joker finds himself staring, point blank, at the barrel of a gun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYBABYEAAAAAAAAAAAH 
> 
> Anyway! We’re earning the slow burn tag, fellas.  
> There were a lot of things I wanted to say about writing this, but it ended up in me rambling about the characters, haha.  
> I'm a bit insecure about my writing and sharing always makes me a little nervous, but I think it's very fun as well. I hope someone out there has as much fun reading as I do writing. Things should pick up the pace starting next chapter, as you can probably guess. I'll see you next week, I hope!
> 
> Also! I dont use social media a lot but I recently made a [tumblr](https://justiceraffles.tumblr.com/), feel free to come talk if you ever want to!


	3. Night 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mentions of the interrogation room at the beginning of the chapter.

Five years ago, during an inconspicuous November evening, Ren Amamiya had died. 

Weeks after his death, a dead man roamed across the streets of Shibuya and Yongen-Jaya, wondering about how he had spent his last moments. 

Perhaps, convinced an ally had come to his rescue, he had received his would-be killer with a smile of relief. Maybe he had been bitter and defiant, his spirit of rebellion standing proud even when being shot down. Sometimes, despite knowing he was fooling himself, he liked to believe that it had been a mournful goodbye. 

With the only witness gone, he thought it was a question that would go unanswered. 

Cold steel pressed against his forehead as he kneeled on the ground, defenseless. His body is aching, bleeding and worn. The moment he looks up at his assailant, his vision is dazed, blurry, and unfocused. The dark figure says something he doesn’t comprehend, pressing the muzzle of the gun more tightly against his skin. His mind is numb; he has no energy left to retort.

Save for their clothes and their location, Ren suddenly understands that this is exactly how he had been killed. 

“...The usefulness of the information you give me will be inversely proportional to the pain I make you go through when I kill you, what say you?”

His attacker’s speech finally breaks through his muddled consciousness. Ren becomes all too aware of its every detail: Its pitch, the irritable tone, the careful cadence in which each of his words are spoken when he issues his threat. It is exactly like he remembers. 

Five years ago, during an inconspicuous December evening, Goro Akechi had died. 

There was cruel irony at play in it all. How they had both been killed by the same person, by the same weapon. How they had both been dead men walking, how they still breathed weeks after the day when they had supposedly expired. 

Goro Akechi had not stayed. 

“...Nothing, hm?” The figure clicks his tongue in irritation. He raises his tone, becoming more choleric, more unhinged. It makes the things he says finally start seeping into Ren’s consciousness, “Well, if you’re determined to be a waste of air, be my guest, I’ll just have to pry it out of you!” 

The distinct sound of this frenzied voice is enough to snap Joker back into his senses. 

With the fog and confusion dispelled from his mind, his response is immediate. 

“–Hereward!”

“–Arsène!” 

  
  


Both personas clash and a sea of blue flames encircles them, spiraling as if spread by a gust of wind. Caught off guard by the force of impact, the aggressor is pushed away. Ren takes advantage of the distance it puts between them to scurry onto his feet and reach for his own gun. 

The collision between Arsène and Hereward lasts barely a couple of seconds before they are forced to pull back. When the air settles, Joker and Crow both have their weapons aimed towards the other. Their fingers rest firm on the trigger, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. 

Time stops. Without movements nor words, they stand frozen as they scrutinise every part of their opponent.

In the end, Crow is the one who breaks the silence. 

“Of course…” he begins, voice hoarse. “Of course it’s really you…” It starts as barely more than a whisper, but his volume increases every word. It sheds any composure it once held and becomes a livid growl, “Of course you had to be involved in this goddamn shit.”

“...Akechi...weren’t you…?” Ren takes note of how the grip on his own gun becomes unsteady, and how his knees begin to feel weak, and trails off before he can finish his sentence. There’s a sense of _déjà vu_ carried alongside the entire discussion, reminiscent of that time Akechi had approached him during that January morning. _I'm a bit offended you think so little of me that you expected me to be dead._ Is what he said back then.

That is not what he says now. 

“What, afraid to say it?” A chuckle gives way to hysterical laughter. “Come on, even a fool of your stature can repeat after me,” Crow lowers his gun and waves it carelessly at his side, as if inviting Ren to shoot. “ _Dead_. Goro Akechi is dead and his corpse is rotting somewhere in the confines of the universe where it’ll never be found.”

“...Then, what are you doing…?” Ren puts his own weapon away. He wants to step closer, but finds that he’s incapable. 

“Here? Why, that’s what I wanted to know.” Akechi continues to speak in between humorless, sardonic taunts, “At first, I really was convinced this was some twisted notion of hell, concocted just for me. Now, If only it was that simple, hm?” 

“Akechi, I…” What does he want to say? Is there anything to be said at all?

Crow's already turned his back to him, no longer laughing. 

“What a waste of my fucking time.”

This conversation is over. 

The area they’re stuck in would be most accurately described as a dead end. They stand upon solid, blockless ground. Like a platform anchored at a fixed point along the abyss. Compared to the tower, it seems stable and solid. For the time being, at least. Problem is, there is nowhere else to go. 

Aside from the stone floor, the only thing around them is a set of empty pews. Akechi has moved to the far end and currently examines the ground. Ren allows himself to drop on one as he takes a couple seconds to catch his breath. Maybe he’ll be able to gather the thoughts that are currently going rampant, too. 

One thing he’s certain of is that this is a dream. He doesn’t remember going to sleep, no, but he has no doubts. This fact doesn’t make the situation any less concerning, however. It is not like simple nightmares about being expelled, or sued, or losing his swimming trunks in the sea. This has far more substance. Here, the threat of death is real.

Some version of the metaverse, then. But, he knows that...how? He shuts his eyes and tries to remember, staying still until those vague memories begin to take form. 

“I’ve been here before.” He says, outloud. 

At the very least, the statement is good enough to catch the other man's attention. He turns over to face him, raising a brow, “...Oh?”

“Somewhere like this anyway,” Ren adds, “in a dream a couple of years ago.” 

“Before or after Maruki?” Akechi walks towards him. If he’s willing to talk, perhaps he believes there’s no other possible course of action.

“...Not sure.” He tries to forage through the depths of his mind for a date, to no avail, “It’s all kind of a blur.”

Another sigh of irritation from Akechi, “Do you have anything else to say or are you set on being useless to me?”

Ren gives a small, uncertain nod, “...There was...a woman, back then, in the dream.” It was one of the features that stood out the most. Her red hair, the way she carried herself, her enigmatic speech... “She said she set it up because she was curious, or something...that we wouldn’t remember it when we woke up.”

“ _We_?”

“The others were there, too.” They had, hadn’t they? He could recall their comments and cheers while he continued to push his way up. “Just watching, though. I was the only one doing the actual climbing.”

Instead of continuing his questioning, Akechi does nothing but stare at him, unflinching. It’s that scrutinising look he makes while analysing the enemy before him, “So, if I understand correctly, My life is toyed with by a god, then by a madman who fancies himself a saviour, and now I’ve become a part of your dreams, have I?”

Akechi need not express his disgust towards the implications behind that statement. Before Ren can object or counter, he proceeds, “I will admit it is somewhat amusing. See, I believed that if this was my punishment, it would simply be my burden to bear.” He snickers again, and it resembles that soft, phony giggle he used during his days as the Detective Prince. “But, lo and behold,” he gestures towards his direction as he wears that same, plastic smile, “the great Amamiya appears!” 

“Oh, everything makes much more sense this way, does it not?” He no longer attempts to hide the hatred and strain underlying that saccharine tone. How he articulates himself is in equal parts eloquent and brutal, and it is part of what makes him fearsome. “It figures this is because of _you_. Another great adventure, some test from the world, or whatever dimwitted god, or some other idiotic way in which you can prove how much of an impeccable little hero you are. That is what this is, isn’t it?”

There’s no reply. 

“I’m fed up with this shit.” Akechi grits his teeth and slams his fist against the pew Ren is sitting on. Wooden splinters chip away under the force, “I won’t stand for being brought back for _your_ sake. I’m not some addendum to your goddamn fucking story.”

He wants to say _I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m sorry about all of this._ Or perhaps, _thanks for saving my life back there. I wouldn’t have gotten out without you._ _It’s good that you’re here now. I’m actually kinda happy to see you._ Then he thinks, _Did you know they actually did find your body the other day?_ He can’t possibly say something like that right now, can he? _Let’s make a deal to get through this together._ Akechi would slap his hand, if not rip it off, if he suggested that. _Hey, I’ve missed you_...As if.

So, “...What is that?” is what he blurts out instead. 

Forgetting about the things he’s itching to say, his attention is caught by a bookstand set by the stairs they came up from. It hadn’t been there before, he’s certain. An open journal sits upon it, and Ren is drawn to it at once. The message upon the page are written in black ink and perfect calligraphy, reading as follows:

Time never waits

It delivers all equally to the same end.

Your world is not as it should be.

It is filled with uncertainty,

and the "truth" can no longer be seen. 

You stand at an impasse,

and your life ticks away due to indecision.

Only those who acknowledge the above have the privilege of challenging this tower,

and the chance of rising against the abyss of their own hesitation. 

Should you desire answers, and to grasp the "truth" within your doubts,

hereby agree thus,

and chooseth this fate of thine own free will.

\--------------------------- --------------------------- 

Signature Signature

A contract? The privilege to challenge the tower? He doesn’t remember anything like this. Yet again, he supposed there were several differences from when he climbed the first time around. Case in point: Akechi.

Moreover, he feels beckoned by the message, and that he must sign it in order to move on. 

“Free will? Don’t make me laugh.” Akechi huffs from behind him. He sounds dismissive, but his body language is telling. His arms crossed while facing away, but Ren catches him shooting tentative glances at the page from over his shoulder. “If I follow, you either agree to whatever this nonsense is so you can move forward or stay stuck here until you fall to your death. Can’t say it is much of a choice.”

Ren picks up the quill and offers it to him. “You want to go first, then?”

He refuses right away, “And what point would there be to that? I told you, I’m done with these games. I won’t take part in it.”

“But if you don’t you’ll–"

“What, afraid I’ll _die_? Perhaps you have been too daft to notice, but it is far too late to worry about–"

“Fine, whatever. Suit yourself." Ren quickly signs his name on one of the spaces at the bottom. He should have left it at that, he knows. However, unable to ignore the hollow pain in his chest that grows whenever Akechi taunts him, he allows his own venom to leak out, "You've already resigned to the fact that you're dead and have no say in this. The _real_ Akechi wouldn't be this much of a coward anyway, so you're probably some crappy cognition I've conjured up and maybe it's best if you—"

He's interrupted once again when he's grabbed by the wrist and forced to turn around, his back pushed onto the bookstand. The pointed ends of Crow's gauntlet sink into his arm, and the leader of the Phantom Thieves is pinned under the Black Mask's murderous gaze. His features are mostly concealed beneath the dark mask. Even so, Ren meets, hidden beneath the getup, the crimson eyes he so vividly remembers. 

Despite their long awaited reunion, it seems everything they say is put out to hurt eachother. There's none of that old witty and effortless banter. It isn't playful, or pleasant, or easy, or fun. It is a bitter and resentful exchange, where they continue to jab at their opponent’s wounds until one of them yields. They are set on interrupting each other, on not letting the other get the upper hand. 

"Don't fucking test me, _Joker_."

"Rise to the challenge then, Crow."

Ren can’t bite down the antagonistic smirk that forms on his expression as he taunts his rival, and the latter’s scowl also grows in turn. It takes all his willpower not to let any of the pain over his wrist show as his rival’s grip tightens, as the stand’s edges also begin to sink into him. He becomes aware that they’re both breathing heavily and, standing this close, Ren takes note of the small differences since their last meeting. The ways in which his face has changed, marking the passage of five years they’ve been apart. ...But, why is that? For Akechi, those years were never meant to have happened, and his corpse lies, supposedly, somewhere under the SIU’s supervision. Is this a trick of his cognition, too?

“Give me that.”

Just as Ren’s about to ask, Akechi virtually rips the quill off him and pushes him aside. He writes his name down in a hurried, impatient motion over the empty spot. When he’s done, the quill snaps under the pressure. 

“There.” Akechi spits out and tosses the quill’s broken remnants.

It makes Ren snicker, how he’s still so easily provoked. He looks over at their signatures, side by side, as they begin to glow. 

**雨宮 蓮** **明智 吾郎**

Amamiya Ren Akechi Goro

The book disappears in a flash of light, and a new structure materialises ahead. A richly decorated booth, framed with accents of gold and silver and an intricate design carved into the wood. To its right, an open curtain reveals a single seat lined in bright red, a space just barely large enough for a one person. There’s an opaque window to it’s left. Behind it, Ren can make the outline of a figure sitting beyond. 

“...A confessional?” 

It somewhat reminds Ren of the one at Kanda, but more ornate, more grand. A signpost beside it reads “Truth.” Alongside it, the statue of a gargoyle raises a clawed finger and points upward. Once again, a bell begins to toll above them, egging them to continue. 

“Would you look at that,” Ren whistles. Being genuine and open in regards to his feelings does nothing to diffuse the tension, so he resorts to his usual lighthearted antics in its stead, “signing a contract with me at a church, guess that means that now you’re bound to me forever.” 

This comment earns him yet one more glare, “You speak as if that hasn’t always been the case,” Akechi snaps back. “No matter, by the end of this, I’ll tear it into shreds for good.” 

Ren wishes he had something else to add, but the response makes him feel hollow, and his willingness to tease is gone all too quickly. “Doesn’t seem like it’s big enough for the both of us. Guess we have to take turns?”

“Go ahead in that case.” Says Akechi. Ren recognises it to be a command rather than a proposal or suggestion. 

“How come? Still scared? What if I reach the top before you?”

“With how you climb, I sincerely doubt that.” Akechi scoffs, then turns away “...Consider it a handicap.”

“...Alright. We’ll see about that.” Ren does everything in his power to put up a playful grin, “You better be there. Give it your all.”

“Just stay out of my way.”

* * *

  
  


The “priest” sitting at the other side of the wall sounds nothing like the one at Kanda.

“Long time no see! It’s nice to see you here. What was it those two called you? ” The disembodied voice is high-pitched and full of contempt. Ren can’t help but think that he’s being mocked. He sits down when prompted, and waits for it to continue. “...Ah, yes. Welcome to the confessional, _my little trickster.”_

“Right. And who are you?”

“As you know, this is the World of Nightmares, and I am it's supervisor.”

Ren blinks and furrows his brow, gathering the bits and pieces he can manage, “...Are you that woman, from the other time…?”

Dropping all pretenses, its tone shifts. “Hmmm, silence is golden. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

_Bingo._ Even if he cannot see her, he pictures her clearly on the opposite end. He clicks his tongue, “That so? I take it you’re not going to tell me why I’m here, either. Another test?“

The woman laughs. “How inquisitive. I should have expected you to be bold. You _did_ defeat Yaldabaoth, after all...” She stops briefly, musing, “...Ah, humans never cease to fascinate me.”

There’s an additional pause, and she adds, “I’ll honour our meeting with an answer, at least. I became involved because of my own curiosity. But, this time, I am a mere facilitator.”

“A facilitator…?”

“That’s right.” She repeats, “You’ll come to understand in due time, if you survive.” 

There’s a lone clap coming from her side of the screen. “For now, let us amuse ourselves with a question.”

“Wait I still need to—” There are many things he needs to ask her. About what “The World of Nightmares” actually entails. About why _Akechi_ of all people is with him. 

Whatever doubts he has, she makes it clear that she will not be entertaining it, “Without further ado, this is the first question:”

**If you’ve had a change of heart, is it alright to go back on a promise?**

Of course, things change. I can’t back out on my word.

Two golden ropes fall from the ceiling, causing Ren to flinch.

“Simply pull on the one to select a choice.” The woman explains, “You may answer however you wish. But...if you’ve any interest in finding the truth that lies in your heart, it would do you well to be honest.”

The answer is obvious, isn’t it? He wants to be useful to those he loves. Someone they can rely on, who they can count on. It was thanks to deals and cooperation that he got the chance to grow close to everyone he treasure today. What are deals if not another form of promises? 

His word is his bond. There’s no other option.

The confessional surges upward. 

* * *

"Ren, you're...my light." 

_The setting sun tints the sky with various shades of orange sky is tinted with shades of orange, and bathes them with a warm hue. At the peak of twilight, Ren sits next to Ann in the wagon of a Ferris wheel. This setting suits her, and she looks beautiful, as always. From the very beginning, he has always believed she was gorgeous._

“Back when I met Shiho, when she saved me...I realised that personal relationships are something to be treasured” 

_Shiho, huh? Whenever they are together, even somewhere intimate like this, the topic of conversation always circles back to her. Ren sometimes wonders if he should feel jealous or upset. On the contrary, he thinks there’s something quite mesmerising about seeing someone speaking about another person with this much tenderness. So fondly, so...lovingly. He likes seeing the way Ann’s face lights up whenever she mentions her best friend. It makes her so happy, he can’t imagine being upset over it all. Ren also wonders if Shiho would be better suited to sit next to her._

“That's why I'm not going to run away anymore. I'll face myself head on. This time, it's my turn to help someone.” _Her determined declaration is followed by a bashful expression Ren has begun to read all too clearly. The one that comes before asking for a favour._ “But...I'm still kinda worried. Do you think you could help me, Ren?”

 _Ann is nothing short of amazing. Passionate. Lively. Free spirited. To have a girl like her want him in her life, to have her rely on him...he is aware of how lucky he is. So, he wants to make sure he lives to her expectations._ "Of course."

"You can lean on me too, if you need it..." 

"I will." _He nods again, and she looks happy when she rests her head on his shoulder._

"I feel like we finally see each other eye to eye, Ren. I'm so glad I met you." _Ren watches the scenery in front of them as she talks. Seeing his reflection on the glass makes him notice how long his hair has gotten. He uses his other hand to brush his bangs off his eyes._

"Promise me that you'll stay by my side...Okay?" _Ann says, at last._

"Of course." _So he does, one more time._

"Good." _she beams in return._ "...I'm so glad."

_Despite going to sappy, clichéd dates like this, there aren’t many things he knows about romance. Still, he knows he loves Ann, there’s no reason not to. This is what love must feel like, so he knows he does._

* * *

  
  


Ren is quick to push the curtain open when the confessional comes to a halt. It descends back into the darkness as soon as he walks out, and he only hopes that it’ll bring Akechi the next time it comes up. Despite saying he would go on ahead, he contemplates whether he should wait for the ex-detective to arrive safely before doing so. 

Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t get to make that choice. Barely seconds after stepping into the fray, a monstrous shriek stirs the ground below. Though distorted, it sounds eerily familiar. When Ren glances down in search of its owner, he encounters two enormous tendrils creeping towards him. They move in a distinctly serpentine way, curling and tightening all over the nearby blocks, rendering them completely stuck.

He approaches them, wary, and reaches out to it for further inspection. Strands of red and blonde intertwine around each other into the thick braid that now holds the structure in place. What might have once been vibrant and beautiful colours lie hidden under a layer of grime and filth.

“Is this...hair?”

Ren touches it, and is met with another scream. 

_“I like you!”_

Rising from underneath is a massive set of three pairs of eyes, all of them a mixture of glaring yellow and blue, fixed on him. They belong to a vaguely humanoid face, framed by a dark mask that resembles a feline. A cigar, held between its lips, sends clouds of smoke into the air. The two braids that stem out from the figure continue to move forward the closer it approaches. 

_“I love you!”_

And then there’s that voice. That unmistakable voice that he recognises all too well. 

“ _A-Ann?_ ”

_“I wanna be with you forever!”_

The world trembles with it all. Ren realises he has no way but up. 

* * *

If climbing a crumbling tower was a difficult feat, Ren still knew it was feat he could overcome. He had done so before, after all. 

What he failed to factor in was the fact that a warped version of his first girlfriend and her three personas would be hunting him down while doing so. More challenging than climbing itself, however, was ignoring the monster’s pleas. 

What haunts him is the fact that he has heard these phrases before. When Ann had said them, they were genuine, expectant. He has to stop himself from getting distracted. Endure the urge to apologise and repent. 

_“You promised, didn’t you?!”_

He _did_.

Ren stops in his tracks and turns to face the monster. The girl who had first told him she loved him. The girl who had put all her trust upon him, and whom he betrayed and disappointed. He will never understand how she had ever grown to forgive him. He does not deserve it. 

Maybe he deserves to be punished here instead. 

The cigar is set ablaze, and Ren recognises the shade of pink in the flames it thrusts into the air. Like he had earlier, he watches, in place, as the attack plummets towards his direction. He closes his eyes before they hit.

“Do you want to die?!”

— And is pulled aside before it hits. 

His surroundings tremble when the projectiles make impact, but the fever and disorientation he experienced before doesn’t come. In its stead, there’s just the warmth of someone holding him close. Joker opens his eyes to find himself wrapped in Akechi’s arms. The sharp edges in Black Mask suit prick and poke at his skin uncomfortably, but Ren doesn’t make an effort to move away. He notices red eyes glaring at him from behind his visor. The moment they make eye contact, Crow pushes him away. 

“Just as I thought, you’re pathetic.” Akechi hisses, “Even when I gave you such a generous headstart, too”

They're huddled up within the empty space between a set of blocks. The ones hanging overhead must have served as their shield.

“You’re safe…”

“Did you expect any less?”

“No, I just…” Where is Ren going with this? “...Nevermind. That thing...is that Ann’s shadow?”

Akechi is visibly confused at this question. “...Takamaki? Is that what you…?” but he shakes his head and refocuses, “...Hardly the time to discuss that. Whatever it is, I’d rather we kill it, but we’re hardly in a position to properly fight.” 

“So, you’re saying we’ve got no choice but to keep climbing.”

“Correct.” Crow looks up. His calculating expression makes Ren think of when he served as the navigator for their provisional team during their initial infiltration into Maruki’s palace. “You’ve got to steer clear from that thing. Get hit and it’ll lure you to her like it did before.”

“Okay, got it.” Ren nods and steadies his footing to continue his climb. 

“Oh, and I won’t save you a third time.” Charming as always. Only he would feel obligated to add something like that. 

It doesn’t bother Ren. In fact, it makes it all the more reassuring. “Yeah, yeah. See you at the top, Cro—”

_“So you already have a favourite?!”_

The ear-piercing shriek reminds him that they are still being chased. 

With their hiding spot exposed, the pair is quickly surrounded by rabid dogs that bear their fangs at them, ready to strike any second. 

“ _Shit._ ” Akechi swears under his breath and draws his gun. shoots at them with acute precision. Without missing a single shot, the bullets hit them perfectly between the eyes. They disintegrate instantly in a puff of black smoke, creating a brief opening. “Fucking vermin...”

“Come on, move, move!” Crow darts forward, signalling Joker to follow. It isn’t long before a new pack of dogs is chasing, barking, and hissing at their heel. 

Ren doesn’t consider himself to be an unskilled climber by any means. That said, when he watches Akechi create a path throughout a seemingly immovable wall convinces him that he might be slightly outmatched here. Not one of his movements is wasted. Every second is put to good use. He perceives the exact method to create his path forward. 

He wouldn’t call it graceful. Akechi’s far too...bestial for that.

Instead, he is implacable. Ren believes it to be spellbinding by itself. 

“I told you, to fucking _MOVE_ , JOKER.”

Right.

Because of the sound of a bell ahead, Ren knows they’ve almost made it to the end. As a final hurdle, they find the last stretch completely entangled by Celestine’s hair. Akechi pulls out his sword and begins cutting the braids in order to release the blocks. The few seconds he’s occupied are enough for Hecate’s bloodhounds to catch up to them both. 

“Fuck this.” Akechi jeers, “Change of plans. You tear through it, I’ll kill them.” 

He heeds the command and moves on cue: Joker slices through the locks with the same speed in which Crow cuts through rabid dogs. 

_“You’re the scum of the Earth!”_

Out of the corner of his eye, Ren catches a glimpse of Carmen’s cigar lighting up a second time, and he knows to take cover. He jumps and slides into an opening under the steps. Crow is dashing in his direction when one of the hounds latches onto his leg. His dark form is engulfed by flames. 

“Akechi!”

When the smoke dissipates and settles, Akechi’s body shakes unsteadily as he tries to stay afoot. He grips to his sword and places it on the ground, a desperate gesture to keep himself from falling. 

“...Damn it, I...”

Enemies gather around him. He grits his teeth, and takes one step backwards. Every second puts him dangerously closer to the edge. 

Ren moves without a second thought. 

“ _Megidolaon!_ ”

A single strike from his persona is enough to push the enemies back. Ren rushes to his companion’s aid and has him lean over his shoulder. 

“Amamiya, you…” From beneath the mask, he can make out the drops of sweat trailing down Akechi’s cheeks. His skin is devoid of colour, his eyes unfocused and wide. 

If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Akechi was about to break into tears. 

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.” Ren tells him.

“You really are…”

Using what remains of their strength, they stagger together towards the doorway above them. 

Upon placing his hand over the door, he hears the monster’s final cry. 

“ _REN!_ ”

He can almost see Ann’s face, and it hurts. The worst part of it all, Ren thinks, is that he does want to fulfill the promise he made. He wants to stay by her side, watch her grow and triumph. Because he loves her. He does. 

The pause makes Akechi tense up at his side. 

“I’ll be with you forever, Ann. I promised you that.”

...But He never was in love with her, was he?

“...So I’ll be there as your friend.”

_“Youuuu—”_

So he pushes the door open, and the blinding light that flows through shines onto the creature and pierces into its body until it’s reduced to nothing but flower petals and smoke. 

When it's all over, Akechi forcibly steps away. 

“...Go first…” he says, still breathing heavily. “I’ll follow.” The look he gives Ren gives little space for argument. 

He takes it as a promise.

* * *

  
  


“ Congratulations for a most thrilling opening night!”

“The two of you climbing together...can you hear your own heart pounding with excitement?” 

“As a reward, I will show you something special tonight.”

“Do you recall? The night you received that most unique confession…”

* * *

  
  


"I'm going to be entirely honest with you: I hate you."

_Yes, of course he remembers. Even if he wanted to, Ren doesn’t think he could possibly ever forget._

"Your deft handling of your unfortunate circumstances, your uniqueness, your ability to surpass me _—_ all these irritate me."

 _Out of the many ways he could have felt then, why did hearing this make him_ **_happy_ ** _, of all things?_

"...You're the one person I refuse to lose to."

_Whenever he’s with Akechi, these moments of honesty are brief and fleeting. The absence of that forced smile, of his usual pleasant tone...it’s all so awfully refreshing. Even if those feelings are those of resentment and hatred, they appear honest, genuine, true._

_Ren doesn’t have to force himself to return them._

“Same here.”

_He doesn’t know why Akechi seems so flustered. Wasn’t it obvious that he felt the same way?_

"You really are _—_ No, never mind." _That look of surprise lasts just a second._ "I'll let you have this win today _—_ but next time, I will be victorious." _It quickly transforms into_ _determination. The one he had shown during their fight and every small competition prior._

"Let this be my proof.” _And that’s when he holds Akechi’s glove for the first time. He keeps it close to his chest and doesn’t let go._

"Make certain that you never forget: I am the one who will defeat you."

_Say, Akechi, when will that promise be fulfilled?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first of all, I wanted to apologise for the delay in posting this chapter. Finals caught up to me and I only managed to finish this properly now. I'm hoping to go back to weekly updates after this, though!
> 
> As for the chapter, well. It took us over 10k words but they've finally met! We did it!  
> There are many things I want to talk about, but I don't trust myself not to spoil. I simply hope someone finds the setup interesting! I've spent a lot of time trying to plot this carefully...
> 
> Also, I'm pretty sure I can recite the entirety of Ann's 9 and 10 confidant ranks by heart now. I love Hecate's and Celestine's designs...It was fun to think of this cognitive version of her.
> 
> Talk to me on [Tumblr!](https://justiceraffles.tumblr.com/)


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